


Strange Friends and Stolen Eyes

by Closeted_Bookworm



Series: Cool Powers and Calamitous Instincts (Tethered Spirits AU) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alter Egos, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindness, Dark Sides, Ghosts, Haunting, Mark Fischbach Egos, Mild Gore, Possession, Sean McLoughlin Egos, Trust Issues, YouTubers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23998015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Closeted_Bookworm/pseuds/Closeted_Bookworm
Summary: Ethan receives an unusual unmarked package in the mail, and now he has a ghost living in his house. This ghost might not have the best control over his powers...
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach & Sean McLoughlin
Series: Cool Powers and Calamitous Instincts (Tethered Spirits AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851082
Comments: 37
Kudos: 143





	1. A Mysterious Package

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the glitches Ethan’s recording set-up caused in videos like the one linked below.  
> ["You Shouldn't Be Able to Watch This"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9e9kOpi0ABA)

Ethan woke up to the sound of his doorbell, which was strange. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and he hadn’t ordered anything online recently. He rolled out of bed and groggily went to answer it, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and wishing he had some coffee in him. 

He pulled the door open and saw a nondescript brown box sitting innocently on the welcome mat, duct taped shut and with no return address or postage. Taking it inside and setting it on the table, he turned his back to grab scissors out of the drawer so he could open it. It was probably a prank gift from one of his friends or something. 

When he turned back around, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Silver vapor was pouring out of the box, shimmering beautifully in the fluorescent light. The smoke formed a glistening mass that hung in the air above the cardboard box, swirling and twisting like a thundercloud. The scissors fell from Ethan’s hand, clattering to the floor. The sharp noise made the cloud jump and spin, and a small tornado started forming in the middle of his kitchen. 

He watched, frozen with shock, as the cloud spun itself into a column and slowly coalesced into a humanoid form. He reached out a shaking hand, filled with an irrational urge to touch the thing, and it mirrored his movements, fingers sprouting out of the smoke to align with his own. 

The cloud was soft and cool and pleasant, like the cold side of a down pillow. As the wispy fingers intertwined with his own, a gust of wind from nowhere blew through the kitchen and swept the fog away, leaving behind an exact replica of Ethan. He was the same silvery color the fog had been, but he was slightly translucent and dressed in a flowing nightgown that fluttered constantly from a non-existent breeze. Ethan gasped and yanked his hand away, and his doppelganger blinked in surprise and looked down at his newly human hands.

The duplicate examined his new body with interest. His entire, albeit short, existence had been spent as drifting mist up until this point. He’d never had a physical form before, and he decided he liked it. Touching the floor was cool. Seeing instead of sensing was kind of confusing, but he supposed he’d get used to that. 

“What is happening right now? Who are you?”

He looked up (that was a new experience) and saw his new form’s mold pointing an accusatory finger at him with fear in his eyes. He should probably explain what he was. He tried saying something, but he tripped over his new tongue and all that came out was a garbled mess. This was going to take some time to get right. He pointed to his mouth and shook his head. 

“You can’t talk?”

He shook his head. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” A head shake no. Ethan tried to collect himself. “Are you a ghost?” More head shaking.

The duplicate could hear his mold asking more questions, but he was more interested in examining his new surroundings. He walked out of the kitchen, the man running ahead of him and trying to block the hallway, but he simply phased through him, disappearing into the room at the end of the hallway as the man collapsed behind him. He wanted to look around his new home.

⸻

When Ethan came to, his first thought was that he was freezing. He felt colder than he ever had in his life. His second thought was that his head hurt. He sat up, shivering a little, and gingerly touched the sore spot on the back of his head where it had hit the wall on his way down. Hopefully he didn’t have a concussion; he literally looked at screens all day for a living.

All at once, he remembered what had knocked him out, and he jumped to his feet and ran down the hall to his recording room, throwing the door open and preparing to give the lecture of a lifetime to whatever that thing was.

The room was empty. Ethan, confused and upset, went through every room in his apartment, but the being was nowhere to be found. Was it real? He wondered if he’d sleepwalked and it was all a crazy dream, but the little brown box was still sitting on his kitchen counter and that reasoning couldn’t explain the constant cold he’d been feeling the entire morning. He didn’t seem to be able to warm himself up at all. After scouring the entire apartment top to bottom and finding nothing, he pulled on a sweater over his shirt and went to record a video, trying to shake off the feeling of unease following him everywhere.

⸻

The duplicate was very warm. It was a new experience for him, usually he was as cold as ice, but since he’d walked through his mold his physical form had adopted a human temperature, and he liked feeling fuzzy and nice inside. He sat sideways on the wall behind his mold as he recorded a video of some sort, ignoring gravity and wondering how his mold made a living like this. He studied the way he talked by watching the monitor, silently mimicking the mouth shapes and trying to get his tongue to do what he wanted it to. He was invisible at the moment, which meant he couldn’t see himself practicing on the monitor, but he was okay with that as long as it meant his mold wouldn’t try to ask him more questions. He wanted to be able to talk properly before that happened again.

⸻

Ethan finished recording and sent the footage off for editing. He rubbed his arms, trying to produce enough friction to provide some relief, but he was still freezing. Pulling another sweatshirt on over his sweater, he went to make himself some hot chocolate and hopefully warm himself up.

A couple hours later, as he was studying the thermostat and trying to figure out if it was lying to him, his phone dinged to let him know that a new text message had come in.

_Ethan, what’s up with the footage you sent me? Did you edit it beforehand?_

He stared with confusion at the text from his editor. He hadn’t altered the video footage at all, it was raw. 

_No, why?_

_There’s some really weird stuff going on with it, I thought maybe you were going to prank your viewers or something. Will you look at it?_

_Sure, I’ll get right on that._

Ethan slid into his chair and pulled up the footage he’d recorded earlier of some cute Christmas horror game and started watching it back. After only a few seconds, the video started glitching horribly and turning gray, flipping in and out of the normal view and the awful distorted one. It was the same silvery color of the spirit from earlier. He knew he hadn’t been imagining things. He fired off a quick text to ask his editor to do what he could to salvage the video, then launched into another search of his apartment, all the while calling out for whatever the thing was to reveal itself, but it never came out. He sincerely hoped the thing was not lying to him when it said it didn’t want to hurt him.

⸻

Another week passed without a single sighting of the ghost he was pretty sure was living in his apartment, but he kept finding little signs of his presence. Food kept going missing, lights were left on or flickered for no apparent reason, and several more of his videos got corrupted. He had no idea what to do. He’d told his friends about what was going on, but none of them believed he’d actually seen a silver replica of himself form out of smoke from a mysterious empty box that had been sent to his doorstep. They suggested he take his camera to a repair shop or that he’d been dreaming or even that he was just imagining things. It was incredibly frustrating, but he tried not to feel offended. It did sound far-fetched.

He also hadn’t been able to shake off the cold feeling all week. No matter what he did to heat himself up, he couldn’t get warm. It was like the cold was ingrained into his bones and wouldn’t leave him alone. Mark had commented on how cold his hands were when they were filming that week. He was tired of trying to fall asleep at night shivering under a mound of blankets.

⸻

The duplicate watched his mold go about his daily life, learning about human behavior and practicing his speech. He was forced to tag along when the man left the house, since they were tethered together, but he liked experiencing more of his new world and seeing new people, even if they refused to believe he existed. He’d reveal himself eventually, and then they would believe and the problem would be fixed, but right now he was still learning about life.

He discovered that he could taste things now that he had a tongue. He had a lot of fun trying new foods when his mold wasn’t looking, though he learned very quickly that he shouldn’t try eating anything except what was in the kitchen after a disastrous attempt to eat soap. He loved messing with the lightswitches to freak his mold out; watching him unscrewing and replacing perfectly good lightbulbs was hilarious to him. His speech was coming along great, he could say some words now, though words with the letter R in them were hard to get right. Having body heat was a ton of fun; sometimes he’d take ice cubes out of the freezer just to watch them melt in his hands. 

The only thing he couldn’t figure out about his new world was mirrors. His mold had a reflection that followed his every move whenever he stood in front of one, but even when he made himself visible again he couldn’t see himself. He curiously slid into the mirror and found he could appear in it, but no matter what he did he did not have a reflection. 

He also discovered that his presence messed up his mold’s recording equipment. After glitching the footage for a few videos, he got bored of it and just stayed out of the recording room, more interested in things he could play with in the real world instead of the digital one. 

After two weeks and a lot of practice talking while his mold was asleep, he finally decided to show himself again. He materialized standing on the kitchen table while his mold was eating breakfast, nearly making him fall out of his chair in surprise. 

“I knew you were real!”

“Yeah, I’m real.”

“Why are you here? Why have you been driving me crazy? Are you the reason I’m so _cold?_ ”

“I’m here ‘cause I was sent here, teasing you is fun, and I don’t know why you’re cold. Can I have some food?” 

“What? No, I need an explanation. My friends think I’m seeing things and I have a ghost in my apartment, I need information. And get off the table.”

He jumped down and sat across from his mold, looking longingly at the cereal. He didn’t really need to eat, but it was fun. 

“I’m not a ghost.”

“Well then what are you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m tethered to you now, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have to go where you go, and I look like you. Oh, and I die if you do.”

Ethan shook his head in disbelief and ran a hand through his hair. His life had just gotten a whole new layer of crazy added to it. He didn’t know what to think.

“Can other people see you?”

“If I want them to. Your friends can meet me if they want.”

He let out a long breath. “Ohhhkay.” At least he could prove to people that he wasn’t crazy. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t have one. You pick.”

This was getting stranger and stranger. “Then you’re Blank now, since my fans all thought it was my dark side corrupting those videos a little while ago. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yup. Watching the camera wig out was funny. It made you really annoyed, though, so I stopped.”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

“So am I being haunted now?”

“I guess so.” Blank shrugged. “Can I meet some other people later today now that I know how to talk?”

“Maybe. Why didn’t you know how to talk already?”

“‘Cause I was smoke before. I just projected words into people’s heads, but now I have a tongue since I got my shape from you. You’re my mold. I’ve never had a body before; it’s fun.”

Ethan thought for a moment. “You took the shape of your body from me?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you warm?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it possible that you stole my body temperature? I haven’t been able to warm myself up since you knocked me out.”

The ghost considered this. “I guess. I’ve never really done this before.”

“Can you give it back? I’m so sick of being cold.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Try just walking through me again.”

Blank started ghosting through the table towards him, not even bothering to stand up.

“Wait, hang on, let me sit down on the floor first in case I faint again.”

Once his mold was sitting comfortably on the floor, the duplicate (Blank now, he supposed, having a name was cool) phased through him, and he fell down in a faint once again. Blank settled himself back into a chair to wait for him to wake up. He still felt warm, which was strange because he thought the heat would disappear once he gave it back. 

Something looked off about the room around him. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but everything looked slightly distorted and sharper. His face felt weird too. He reached out and touched it, and he discovered that a second pair of eyes had appeared on his cheeks. That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen, but at least that solved the question of why the room looked distorted. He didn’t know what to do, so he decided to simply wait until his mold woke up and ask for his advice.

⸻

Ethan woke up in darkness. He shot up, blinking repeatedly and straining to see _anything_ in the blackness, but there was nothing, not even the outlines of shapes. He reached out and his fingers struck the familiar wood of his kitchen table, but he couldn’t see it at all. Plus he was still cold. What had Blank done to him?

“Blank? Are you there?”

“You’re awake! Oh my goodness, what happened to your eyes? They’re all black! Did I do that?”

“I can’t see anything! What did you _do?_ ”

“I think I might have accidentally stolen your eyes…”

“Well then how do you give them back?”

“I’m not sure… Should I walk through you again?”

“No, no, don’t, you might take something else.” 

Ethan tried to calm his racing heart, his anxious mind jumping from idea to idea as quickly and nimbly as a dragonfly in an attempt to stave off panic. Having the spirit walk through him again was off the table, too risky, but the ghost clearly had very limited control over his own powers and did not know how to fix the problem by any method he could think of. They needed help, but where does one go for help with a ghost?

“Are there other spirits like you?”

“Yeah, all over the place.”

“Is there a way we can contact a spirit with more experience to fix this?”

“I don’t know any. They’re dispersed pretty randomly, and most people keep them secret. I’m so young that I haven’t met any others.” 

“We’ve got to find one and get them to teach you how to undo it.”

“How are we going to do that? You’re blind, and I can’t lead you anywhere without making you faint.”

“You’re going to call Mark on my phone and I’ll get him to come over.”

“I can’t touch your electronics or they’ll glitch out.”

“Oh. Right. Well, then I’ll do it.” 

He stood up and felt his way along the kitchen counter until his hands landed on his phone. He was able to unlock it from force of habit alone, but he had to get Blank to give him a running commentary on what the screen was displaying so he could pull up Mark’s number. He finally got it, and after a couple rings he heard him pick up. 

“What’s up, man?”

“Can you come over?”

“Why?”

“Well, this is going to sound really weird, but you know that package I got in the mail a couple weeks ago?”

“I keep telling you that’s a dream.”

“It’s not, I swear it’s not. My duplicate is standing next to me right now and he accidentally blinded me and made me really cold and I need you to come over so we can try to find another spirit who can teach him how to undo it.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I can’t see and the _spirit_ tethered to me doesn’t know how to give my eyes back.”

“O-okay. Crap. I’m coming. Do not let him touch you again.”

“Yeah, we’d gathered that much.”

“Just-” Mark hesitated, and a small curl of anxiety blossomed in Ethan’s gut. “Just stay away from him.”

Mark hung up, and Ethan was left with a vague uneasiness and the impression that Mark had accepted this story far too easily.


	2. Questionable Sources

“Is he coming?” Blank asked.

“Yeah, he’ll be over in a few minutes.”

Ethan felt his way to the table and carefully sat down, gently touching his eyelids. He had half-expected them to be fused shut, but they felt the same as they always did. 

Being blind was horrible. He felt exposed and vulnerable, and he found himself second guessing every movement he made like the world might have moved three feet to the right while he couldn’t see it. What was he going to do? Finding another ghost was a nice thought, but how was he supposed to do it? They’d be leaving everything up to chance. He hated not being able to do anything but wait for help to arrive. 

He was startled out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, the same piercing tone that two weeks ago had heralded the start of this whole mess. 

“Blank, could you-”

“Already on it.” 

The duplicate zoomed to the front door and pulled it open, starting Mark, who jumped back in surprise as Blank flashed a winning smile, hovering a foot or two off of the ground. He recovered quickly, however, glaring at the entity and rushing past him to the kitchen. 

Ethan heard him running in and stood up, keeping one hand anchored to the tabletop.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Mark, I just can’t see-”

“He didn’t touch you after I hung up? Does anything hurt?”

“No, he didn’t, I feel fine, just cold. Please stop freaking out; I’m going to freak out.”

“That spirit just blinded you, of course I’m freaking out.”

Blank walked back into the kitchen, all four eyes looking worriedly at the pair and feet back on the ground. Mark rounded on him with an angry expression, looking like he might actually try to punch the translucent duplicate. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Give Ethan’s traits back right this instant.”

Blank held his hands up defensively. “I don’t know how!”

“You’re not fooling anyone. Fix him.”

“I’m not lying, I really can’t! I just started existing a few weeks ago. He was my first mold.”

“He’s not lying, it was an accident. We were trying to figure out how he could give my body heat back and this happened instead. What do you mean he’s ‘not fooling anyone’?”

Mark dropped into a kitchen chair, head in his hands. “I knew this wouldn’t just go away. I really hoped it would.” He looked at Ethan with fear shining in his eyes, and the other man could hear it plainly in his voice, even without his vision. “I think he’s lying to you, Ethan. I think he’s trying to take over your body.”

Ethan sucked in a sharp breath.

“What? I’m not trying to do that at all!”

Mark steadfastly ignored Blank’s noises of protest, focusing on Ethan. “You can’t trust these things.” 

“He’s been living in my house for two weeks, and the worst thing he’s done is flick the lights on and off. He’s had every opportunity; wouldn’t he have done it by now?”

“They try to win you over, gain your trust before attacking you so it’s easier. They can’t take your body all at once, so they bide their time, taking more and more until they are you.”

“How do you know? Are you being haunted?”

“No. But I know someone who is.”

“You do? That’s great! When can we meet them?”

“I’ll take you to him. But that’s not the point. His tethered spirit literally took over his brain while he was asleep, and he had to fight to get control of his own body back. These things are dangerous.”

Blank tentatively raised his hand. “Just so you know, I don’t want a real body. I like this form.”

“Yeah, that’s what you say, but we don’t have any way of knowing you mean it.”

Doubts started creeping into Ethan’s mind. He’d only known Blank for an hour or two, while Mark had been his friend for years. If he said Blank was dangerous, Ethan was inclined to believe him. He still wanted to give the spirit a chance, though. 

“Can we just focus on the current problem and figure out Blank’s motives later?” 

“Of course, you’re the first priority,” Mark said reassuringly, but he still fixed Blank with a distrustful stare. “I’m watching you, though.”

The spirit quailed under the intense glare and seated himself meekly at the table. “I promise I won’t do anything.”

“Sure.”

Ethan placed a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder, feeling the tension rolling off of him in waves. He could picture his face; his jaw would be clenched and brow furrowed, and a protective light would be dancing in his eyes. “Who do you know who has a spirit, Mark?”

The question somehow made Mark tense up even more. This was clearly a topic he didn’t like to discuss. “MatPat has one.”

“ _Matt_ has one?”

“Yeah. His spirit is about as friendly as these things get, he’ll probably be willing to help. More willing than most of them, anyways.”

“Most of them? How many have you met?”

Mark shifted uncomfortably, brushing Ethan’s hand off his shoulder. “A few.” 

He was learning all sorts of new things today. First a not-ghost appeared on his kitchen table, then he lost his vision, and now one of his closest friends was telling him he met spirits on a semi-regular basis. If he was being honest, it hurt a little that he was only finding out now. He’d told Mark about his duplicate the day it had happened, but he had been adamant in insisting he’d imagined the whole thing, while the entire time he’d known it was real and could have supported his story. 

“Well then let’s go!” Blank chimed in. “My vision’s all weird, I want it back to normal.”

Ethan wondered idly if that was the only reason Blank wanted to give his eyes back. He turned to where he thought Mark was sitting and asked if he could drive him to the theorist’s house. He agreed instantly, shooting a quick text to the man to ask if they could drop by. Luckily, he was home and available. 

Mark guided Ethan out of the apartment building and to his car, leading him to the passenger door and firmly directing Blank to the back seat. 

He was seriously worried for the younger man. It must be kind of terrifying to not be able to see anything. He was mentally beating himself up for ignoring Ethan’s claims until now. Maybe he could have stopped it before it got to this point. 

He eyed the apparition in his backseat, whose face was pressed to the window in wide-eyed wonder, drinking in the new scenery like he needed it to live. He’d had a few too many experiences with manipulative and malicious spirits to take his boyish attitude at face-value, though. He wasn’t going to leave that thing alone with Ethan for a single second.

⸻

To say that Matt was worried when he got the text from Mark that Ethan had a spirit problem was a gross understatement. He had agreed to help, but he sure wasn’t excited about it. A jumble of emotions coursed through him, ranging from curious about what was going on to downright terrified. He knew he was the most logical one to approach for advice, since his spirit MadPat was mostly dependable at least as far as physical safety was concerned, but he was chaotic and liked stirring up trouble. He was also a mind reader, which created an entirely new set of issues.

He felt the second presence twist and roil in the back of his mind, sensing Matt thinking about him and wanting to come out and see what the fuss was about, but he shoved him back into his subconscious for the time being. He went up to his attic and scooped up all the notes on spirits he and Mark took during their time with MadPat, who had been surprisingly cooperative with their questioning, dumping them on the coffee table downstairs and starting to sift through them for anything he had on brand-new tethers. There wasn’t much, since Mad was an experienced spirit who had possessed many people and didn’t remember much about his ‘baby days,’ as he liked to call them. That didn’t stop Matt from trying to find something, though, and he’d re-read almost everything, with no luck, before he heard Mark pull up in the driveway. The presence in his mind forcefully reasserted himself as he sensed the others coming, but Matt managed to rein him in, his smile only slightly forced as he opened the door for Ethan and Mark. Blank had made himself invisible, but the sixth sense Mad gave him let him know the spirit was with the pair.

“Hey, Mark, long time no see.”

“Speaking of no see…”

Ethan waved shyly, one hand on Mark’s shoulder for guidance. 

“Let’s try and sort that out, shall we?”

Matt waved them inside. The spirit burned with pent up curiosity behind his eyes, and the room suddenly seemed very bright as his pupils dilated and the entity tried to override his control. He shook his head and threw the thing away from the front of his mind with a stern reprimand to wait his turn before following the pair to the living room. Ethan carefully perched himself on the couch, never quite letting go of Mark, and Matt sat down across from them, examining his black eyes with interest. 

“All right, tell me what’s going on.”

Ethan and Mark relayed everything that had been happening the past two weeks, ending with Mark’s arrival at the apartment.

“Can I see him?” Matt asked.

“Yup!”

He jumped; the young spirit had materialized to his right only a foot or two away, startling him. The spirit in his mind snickered, and Matt felt his cheeks heating up. The translucent duplicate did indeed have four eyes, all of which blinked separately from one another in a very disconcerting manner. He brushed off his shock and addressed the entity.

“What’s your side of all this?”

So Blank related his tale, starting with a cramped few days in a box as smoke, then his formation, and his subsequent “haunting”of the apartment and theft of Ethan’s vision. Personally, Matt thought he was telling the truth, but the disbelief radiating from Mark was so strong he would have been able to feel it even without his sixth sense. 

“I’m guessing you guys want to talk to Mad?” he sighed.

“Yeah…” Mark admitted sheepishly. “I know it’s rough for you, but we really need his help unless your research can tell us how to fix this.”

The entity in his head writhed in excitement. The beginnings of a headache were starting to throb through him as he held the overeager spirit back with a massive mental effort. “He really wants out. He can hear us talking about him. But we’ve got to warn Ethan first.”

“I thought you said Mad was friendly?”

“No, he is _not,_ ” Matt said decisively. “He can be reasoned with, so he’s a little less of a threat, but he’s still a complete wild card, so you still need to be careful. Mark’s dealt with him before, it’s probably a good idea to let him do most of the talking. That includes you,” he said, looking pointedly at Blank, who feigned great offence. 

“He’s also a mind reader,” Mark offered. “He can tell us if Mr. First-time-mold over there is telling the truth.”

“I swear I am.”

Mad started smashing down his mental barricade, and Matt clutched his head as pain sliced through it, weakening his mental control. “He’s coming,” he told Mark breathlessly. “You have to promise to get me back out if I can’t. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Mark said without hesitation, Ethan listening in confusion. Get him out? 

Matt’s pupils were blown wide, then narrowed into cat-like slits to show off new, heterochromatic irises, one green, one red. His ears lengthened into sharp pixie points, and he grinned, showing off sharpened canines. He cracked his knuckles, giggling as he looked at Mark’s set, determined features. Ethan was frantically asking him what was happening, but Mark stayed silent, simply watching as Mad stretched. 

“Ooh, I haven’t been out in so long. It feels great.” He smirked at Mark. “Are the others with us today?”

Mark stiffened, which was not lost on Ethan. “Yes,” he answered shortly, pointing towards Blank, who was now cowering behind an armchair. Mad tutted.

“So that’s how we’re playing it. Pity. We’ll come back to that later. Come here, you silly juvenile, and let me look at what you’ve done to yourself.” He beckoned towards the jittery spirit. 

Blank reluctantly revealed himself, hesitantly taking a few steps towards the spirit he somehow knew was many, many years his senior.

“Yes, I am. All right, let’s see here.” He tilted the spirit’s chin up towards him with a finger, scrutinizing the second set of eyes on his cheeks closely. “I must congratulate you, young one. This is great work for your first time. Nice and evenly spaced, and no bits got left behind. You should try for the mouth next.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan said concernedly. 

“Ah, I forgot you were still here. I was referring to the fact that our little protege here managed a perfect visual transfer with no training whatsoever, and making a suggestion for the next step of his takeover.”

“But that was an accident!” Blank cried. 

“Yes, I know it was, darling, but that doesn’t change the fact that you did it. Isn’t that right, Mark?” 

Ethan was asking him what was going on again. He shook off his friend’s hand and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tune out the voices around him. “Ethan, please just be quiet for a minute.” He could hear Mad cackling crazily and Blank whimpering in fear in the background. Breathing deeply and steadily, he calmed himself down. 

“That won’t work on me this time, Mad.”

“Too bad. Your meltdowns are so entertaining.”

“Mark,” Ethan hissed under his breath, grabbing his arm. “You better tell me what’s going on right now, I just got thrown into this mess this morning and I can’t _see_ anything and you won’t tell me what’s happening!”

He shook off his hand again. “Mad, just tell us how Blank can give them back. That’s all we want.”

“Yeah!” Blank interjected. “I don’t want Ethan’s body, I like being in this form.”

Mad’s brow wrinkled in disgust. “Ugh, I hate that you’re telling the truth,” he growled. “You really are a newborn. There’s just one problem.”

“What is it?” Blank asked nervously. 

Mad’s grin sprang back onto his face, twice as wide as before. “You can’t give them back.”


	3. Mistrust and Mistakes

Ethan’s heart dropped like a stone. 

“What do you mean he can’t give them back?” Mark asked, voice low and dangerous. 

“Possession is a one-way street. Once Blank’s transferred something, you either complete the process or kiss whatever he’s taken goodbye.”

“But I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Blank said miserably. 

“No one said anything about hurting him. You’d be doing what Matt and I do.”

“You cause Matt pain on a regular basis.” Mark exclaimed. “I don’t want that for him. There has to be another way.”

“Stop talking like I’m not here!” Ethan interjected, grabbing Mark’s arm. “Why can’t we hear him out?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve hardly had any experience with this. We can’t just talk it out or make peace. When one of these things lives in you, it’s a constant battle of you or them.”

“So you would have me stay blind for my entire life? I should be able to make my own choice!”

“Not when it’s the wrong one.”

Ethan withdrew his hand, a hurt look on his face. “What’s the matter, Mark? You’re not usually like this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not in front of him.” He turned to Mad, who’d been watching the argument unfold with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You. Let Matt back out now.”

“Hmm, let me think about this… No.”

“Please.”

“Nope. I’m going to make you get him back out.” 

“Mark, what is he talking about?”

“That’s what I was telling you, Ethan. When one of these spirits is possessing you, it takes over your body and you can’t get it back unless it voluntarily retreats or you have the mental willpower to fight it off.”

Unpleasant possibilities started swirling through Ethan’s mind, dimming the light of hope that the possibility of getting his eyes back had created. The idea that Blank would have complete control over his body once they merged terrified him. He wanted to believe that the spirit would give it right back, since he had expressed over and over that he wasn’t trying to cause harm, but if Mark was correct, Blank could just be manipulating him. A lot of conflicting emotions were warring within him right now. 

“Go on, drag him out.”

Mad was goading Mark, giggling with glee as he grew more worried and annoyed. 

“Are you really going to make me do it?”

“Of course. I couldn’t just pass up this wonderful opportunity, and it’s even in front of your friends. I’d love for them to see it. Well, one of them, anyways.”

Mark bristled. “I can't believe you.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and grumbled, considering the situation. “Blank, I need you to turn around and close your eyes.” The apparition obediently turned away and covered his eyes, not wanting Mark any madder at him than he already was. 

“Aw, spoilsport.” Mad muttered. "Well, have at it."

Mark looked nervously back to make sure Blank couldn't see him, then sat down cross-legged on the carpet and closed his eyes. He took deep, calming breaths, searching through his mind for the exact thing he wanted. 

A soft glow surrounded his head like a halo, gradually arranging itself into a golden crown as he concentrated, his eyes scrunched tightly closed. He reached out a hand and rested it on Mad's knee. 

The spirit shuddered with pleasure as power flowed through him, wishing it would stay with him instead of funneling back to the inferior man he shared this body with. He could hear Matt pounding in the back of his mind, demanding to let out, but he wanted to make him work for it. If he wanted his body back, he had to fight for it. In his opinion, whoever was strong enough to take control deserved it. He groaned as the man's banging intensified as the strength boost invigorated him, but he still let it build to near deafening volume before at last retreating back into the depths of the subconscious, nursing a painful migraine. 

Matt gasped with relief as he regained control, and he opened his eyes to see Mark hurriedly dispersing his shining aura. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Blank with his eyes covered. The man shot him a pleading glance, and he sighed but nodded. If Mark wanted to keep his little secret, then it wasn’t his place to reveal it. 

“Matt? Are you back yet?” Ethan asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“Can I turn back around now?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you have him look away?” Ethan questioned. 

“I needed him to ignore Mad so he wouldn’t get stronger; his spirit energy was strengthening him.”

Matt shook his head at the blatant lie, but Ethan seemed to buy it. The blind man was trembling slightly, foot tapping nervously. “What are we going to do?”

“It’s like Mad said. You can either try to merge the rest of the way, or you can try to live the rest of your life blind.”

“There’s got to be a different way to fix it.” Mark insisted.

“Mad is literally incapable of lying, and he’s existed for centuries. If he says that’s all you can do, then that’s final.”

“I want to try it.” Ethan said. If it was impossible for the mind-reader to lie, then he had proved Blank’s innocence. Letting the spirit in was probably the best option.

“What? No, I won’t let you, it’s not worth it.”

“Why are you so adamantly against this? Mad just told us that Blank was telling the truth when he said he didn’t want to possess me. I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this.” 

“I just- I-I can’t stand by and let you do this when I could stop you going through what Matt’s going through.”

“Hey, Mark, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Matt took his arm and pulled him into the next room, shutting the door behind him.

“Mark, you have to let him try if he wants.”

“But all the stuff you go through with Mad-”

“We both know this is _not_ because of my problems. Blank is different anyways, he hasn’t intentionally hurt Ethan at all; Mad proved it.”

“That doesn’t mean it will stay that way. After what I went through, I just can’t trust these things.”

“You can’t let your own prejudice keep Ethan from doing the only thing that will let him go back to normal life.”

“I’m just trying to look out for him. Letting Blank in won’t be a normal life. Look at everything we’ve gone through.”

“About that… You’re going to have to tell him at some point. He’ll find out himself if he and Blank merge; he’ll be able to sense it.”

“I’m not telling him. If he knows, then he won’t be protected anymore. I don’t want to drag him into my problems.”

“Then that’s your call. I may not agree with it, but I trust you and I won’t force you into it. You need to put the same trust in Ethan.”

“But he doesn’t know what he’s getting into!”

“Then give him more information. Tell him.”

“Argh.” Mark pulled at his hair, pacing back and forth across the room. Matt watched him debate with himself, and it was clear he didn’t like either outcome. Back and forth, around and around, up and down, over and over; he was tearing himself up over it. He looked like he was giving himself a headache. “Okay. I’ll tell him. But only to convince him to change his mind. And not in front of you. No offence, I just don’t want Mad to hear.”

“None taken. Give him the full story though. Don’t use it as a scare tactic. He deserves the truth.”

“Fine.”

⸻

Ethan sat anxiously in the eternal black, fingers tapping and mind racing. He wanted to try merging with Blank, but he was certain Mark would never let him. He was too stubborn, and he hadn’t seen his friend this worked up over something in a long time. He was also convinced Mark wasn't telling him everything. He was keeping secrets, and it was clear he wasn't trusting Ethan enough to even let him know the full scope of what was going on. It was his spirit that was the issue, and he was upset that Mark wouldn't tell him what was going on.

He heard footsteps approaching, and a weight settled itself on the far end of the couch, making the cushions dip. Blank had come to sit by him. He wondered how he had made the cushions move if he wasn’t physically there. 

“I’m sorry,” the spirit said meekly. “It’s my fault you’re in this situation.”

“I don’t blame you. You didn’t mail yourself to me, and you couldn’t have known this would happen. I don’t think it’s your fault.”

“Oh. Thank you. I wish I could give you your eyes back, though.”

“We could try merging,” he suggested delicately. “That would fix my vision.”

“You want to? But then I’d be living in your head.”

“Well, you don’t want to hurt me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you want to merge?”

“I think so.”

“So what’s the downside?”

“Mark doesn’t want us to.”

“That’s his opinion. He’s my friend and I’ve definitely thought about what he said, and it kind of scares me, but you’re not like Mad. I think we should do it.”

“He’s going to try to stop us.”

“Let’s do it now, while he’s out of the room.”

“It takes a little while, I think. We might not have time.”

“Then as soon as we get back to the apartment. Deal?”

“Deal.”

⸻

An uncomfortable silence filled the car as they drove back to the apartment. Both men were wrapped up in their own thoughts but at the same time hyper-aware of the other person. Blank watched worriedly from the back seat, wondering how Mark would react to them if they merged. He'd made his position on the topic clear; what if it hurt their friendship? They clearly meant a lot to each other if he was this protective. Ethan really did seem to want this, though. He hoped their relationship would survive it.

Mark spent most of the drive second guessing his decision to tell Ethan his secret. After all, he’d kept it from him for a good reason. Once his friend knew, the protective walls would come down. He’d have to be twice as careful to keep him safe, especially now that he was blind. But if knowing the worst of it would keep him from repeating Mark’s mistakes, then that was a chance he’d have to take. 

Ethan was anxious. He knew what he was planning to do was risky, but he was sick of Mark babying him. He hoped he wouldn’t alienate his friend, but he wasn’t going to take back his decision.

⸻

Mark walked him back up to his apartment, the spirit trailing a few feet behind them, Ethan with one hand on his shoulder for guidance and a distracted look on his face. He knew his friend well enough to tell that he was planning something, and he knew he had to stop him before he did something drastic. He held him back at the door.

“I need to tell you something. I think it will make you change your mind about merging.”

The blind man’s expression hardened. “No.” Before Mark could get another word out, he ran through the front door, slamming it in his face. He heard the lock click into place. He pounded on the door, yelling for Ethan to let him in, to wait, to hear him out, but he didn’t answer. He turned and saw Blank about to phase through the wall and into the apartment.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry, Mark. I promise I won’t hurt him.”

The entity disappeared through the wall, and Mark cried out in despair. He scraped his knuckles raw banging on the door, but his friend never responded. He wasn’t giving up yet, though. There was still one thing he could do, as much as he hated to do it. He leaned back on the door and closed his eyes, diving back into the chaos of his own mind. He carefully navigated through the maze of his subconscious until he found what he was looking for, carefully tapping into the pulsing energy.

His skin shimmered and glistened, glowing a dusty silver color. He opened his eyes and shivered; he’d never get used to that. He turned to the door and punched it as hard as he could. The wood splintered and broke under his fist, and he reached through the hole he’d just made and unlocked the door, the metallic shine vanishing. He burst into the apartment, reeling back as he saw Ethan sprawled on the floor, out cold and with Blank standing over him, hands resting on his chest. The entity’s right hand and face were completely solid, and he could see individual strands of hair changing to brown as the color leached out of his friend and into the spirit, turning patches of his skin gray.

“Get away from him.”

Blank looked up at Mark as he advanced, terror in his eyes. “I-I don’t think I should. He feels fragile. Like a glass that I don’t want to drop. I think it’s too far in.”

“I said get off!” He grabbed Ethan’s arm and yanked him away from the apparition, and he glitched and fuzzed before freezing in place like a computer with a bad WiFi connection. Mark pulled Ethan over to the couch and laid him down, grabbing his wrist and heaving a sigh of relief as he found his pulse. He watched the gray patches covering his friend, waiting for them to start receding, but they remained unchanged as minutes crawled by. Mark pulled a chair in from the kitchen, shooting the still-frozen Blank a glare as he passed, and settled down to wait for his friend to wake up. As time dragged by, he grew more and more nervous. He hoped he’d stopped it in time. 

A soft groan broke the silence, and he looked up to see Ethan’s brow wrinkle and his mouth press into a grimace. He lifted a trembling hand and pressed it to his forehead, whimpering like he was in pain. The whine rose in pitch and volume and Mark rushed to his side, trying to wake him up. His friend didn’t seem to register his touch at all, shuddering and twisting like an electric current was running through him. He jerked and shook, throwing his head back and screaming. Mark covered his ears and fell back, knocking over the chair. The scream didn’t stop, long after Ethan should have run out of breath, stabbing into him like he was feeling the pain too. He stumbled away from the couch and into the kitchen, slamming the door closed, but the shriek still pierced his eardrums. He collapsed onto the kitchen counter, burying his head in his hands. What had he done?


	4. Friendly Foes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is a flashback, but we finally get to find out what Mark's been hiding from Ethan this whole time! (BTW, sorry for the avalanche of new tags, I took this in a different direction than I first intended and a lot more characters decided to make an appearance)

Ethan’s scream ripped through him, barely muffled by the wood of the door. Tears dropped down Mark’s face and onto the counter. He didn’t mean to hurt him, he was trying to help, but now Ethan was in unimaginable pain and it was his fault. He was so wrapped up in his own prejudices that he’d refused to consider what could actually be better for his friend. The guilt crashed through him like a tidal wave. He pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the horrible sound of his friend’s agony, but not all of the noise was coming from outside.

“Congratulations, you’ve done it again.” The voice was cold and condescending, lashing like a whip from the back of his mind.

“Go away.”

“Yeah, no. So, what exactly is your plan here? Just hope it stops eventually?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“I thought so. I have a proposition.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Ah, but it wouldn’t be me. You still haven’t explored your full potential, my dear mold. There are so many of us you haven’t let in yet.”

“I don’t trust the others.”

“Why, because King and Silver are the only ones that share your morals? Such a silly little thing to get in the way when you have a soul healer inside of you.”

“A what?”

“Didn’t you know? The wonderful Dr. Iplier is a healer of the supernatural variety. Though he is sadly unable to do anything for our precious Colonel.”

Mark gritted his teeth. “Don’t talk about him.”

“Why ever not? Is the reminder of your blunder too painful to bear?” 

“Why should I trust you to help him? You've done nothing but hurt and manipulate.”

“Because we’re his only chance.”

⸻

Mark had been dragged into the world of spirits when he was twenty-two. The brown box had arrived on his doorstep just like it had on Ethan’s, but there wasn’t just one spirit crammed into the cardboard prison; there were seventeen. Seventeen! They’d been more shocked than Mark, none of them had ever been tethered to the same person as another entity before.

They’d agreed almost immediately not to try to possess him. None of them were sure what would happen if part of him were transferred to two different spirits, and were not eager to try it until they could find a spirit who’d gone through the same thing and make sure it wouldn’t hurt them. He noticed that none of them seemed to be worried about him, though; it was only what might happen to them that was the problem. Most of them didn’t seem to care about him at all. 

In the days that followed, as he tried to get used to the idea of over a dozen not-ghosts that only he could see following him everywhere, the various spirits established a pecking order and picked names for themselves. At the top was the one that called himself the Colonel. He acted as a sort of kindly father figure to the rest, but he was indisputably the leader, with nearly six hundred years of existence under his belt and a sense of power that cowed even the most rambunctious of apparitions. 

Next were the younger but still powerful entities like The Host, who only spoke in third person and wrapped bandages around his eyes for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, and Google, who had learned what the internet was only a month ago from his last mold, an elderly man, and insisted on naming himself after a search engine. The mid-tier spirits, most of whom were only a few decades old, fought among themselves almost constantly for around a week, jockeying for a higher position, but things settled into a reasonably consistent order eventually, with the outspoken Silver Shepherd, cocky Illinois, and unruly Yandere topping the charts and the rest reaching a shaky truce the Mark didn't really understand but kept them from trashing his house, which was good. The only exception to this treaty was the strange chaotic entity that simply called itself “Jims,” which excluded itself from both the fighting and the hierarchy, refusing to listen to anyone except the Colonel and opting to remain a formless cloud of gaseous silver that enjoyed pranking the others and making his life difficult. 

At the bottom of the ranking were Eric and Dark. Eric was a brand new spirit who was quickly taken under the wing of the King of Squirrels, who was probably the kindest of the spirits, a genuinely nice person who even spared a word to Mark occasionally, which was more than the majority of them did. 

When he was asked, Dark explained that his first tether had only lived a few years before unfortunately passing away in a car accident, so he was still very young. He refused King’s tutelage, however, simply hanging back timidly at the edge of the group and observing. He was often pushed around by the others, but he was nice enough and was the only one who tried to strike up a friendship with the still shell-shocked Mark. 

As weeks turned into months, the two grew very close. Dark was an excellent conversationalist and a great listener; he was a refreshing bit of sanity in all the craziness. He was easy to talk to, and he always had great advice. He also taught him everything he knew about spirits and how they worked. Mark learned that if he ever merged with the spirits, he would get a special ability from each one that he could tap into once they’d possessed him at least once, and how the merging process was started by touch. Mark was not on good terms with most of the group, but he trusted Dark completely. 

He and his ragtag group of apparitions lived in a kind of dysfunctional harmony for a long time. None of the spirits tried to touch him, and he became almost completely accustomed to living with the odd group as they searched for others like themselves. He even started basing characters on his channel after them. It was Dark’s idea, and they all thought it was great fun watching Mark dress up and act like them. They loved seeing the fan’s reactions as well, and were constantly badgering him to pull up the comment sections of their videos and read them out loud since they couldn't touch his computer without it crashing. It was the most interaction he'd ever had with most of them, and he found himself enjoying it, apart from the fact most of them seemed to delight in murdering people. 

When he approached the Colonel about being in a video, he declined, saying he was not interested in a crude internet parody of himself, but he did provide Mark with exciting stories of his younger, more reckless days, when he had gone by the alias of Wilford, and let him use that persona on the channel. 

He was actually starting to like his new life.

⸻

It was the first day of VidCon, and Mark was excited to meet fans and other creators. The Colonel had made the others promise to behave, and he had high hopes that they'd actually stay out of trouble for once.

Things were normal up until he met up with Jack, who'd flown in from England and was doing a panel with him. The panel was great, but Jack kept shooting him strange glances. He started wondering if he could actually see the silvery spirits that had scattered themselves across the auditorium with all the looks he was getting, but he discounted that possibility when Jack didn't react at all to Bim Trimmer pantomiming stabbing Wade in the head in an effort to make the stoic Ed Edgar crack a smile. 

After the panel finished and they'd walked backstage, Jack pulled him aside. 

"Can I talk to you about something for a sec? In private?"

"Yeah, no problem."

They ducked into a small room used to store chairs, and Jack turned to him with a conflicted expression. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw Dark and the Colonel phase through the closed door to eavesdrop. 

"Okay, Mark, I'm going to show you something kind of crazy, but I don't want you to freak out, okay?"

"All right." 

Jack closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath. As Mark watched, bewildered and a touch worried, Jack’s lime green hair lightened to a yellowish color, and red stripes traced their way down his forearms. When he opened his eyes, the bright blue of his irises had spread to the sclerae, giving them a glassy, spaced out look. Mark stumbled back in surprise, causing Dark, who’d been standing behind him, to dart out of the way and run smack into the Colonel, who shook his head in warning and pressed a finger to his lips. The new Jack stuck his fist out, and Mark hesitantly fist-bumped him, confusion evident on his features. 

“Hey, I’m Chase Brody, one of Jack’s tethered spirits.” Mark’s own spirits perked up at the words “one of.”

“Hello…”

“Jack wanted me to come out and say hi to win you over and prove he’s not crazy. We sensed that there was another spirit at the panel, and we thought you might be the mold. We wanted help with a problem we’ve been having.”

Mark looked questioningly at the Colonel, who gave him a reassuring nod. He swallowed and nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m a mold.”

“Awesome. Are you merged?”

“No.”

Chase smiled and spoke to the air around them. “Can whoever’s there please come out so we can talk?”

The Colonel sent a cautionary glance towards Dark, indicating that he should remain unseen, then lifted his invisibility and went to stand next to Mark. 

“Hello. I am the Colonel.”

“Cool, nice to meet you. We had a little mishap when we were merging that we wanted some help with, since none of us know how to fix it.”

“I’ll certainly help if I can. There is more than one of you in there?”

“Yup, poor Jack has to deal with seven of us. Some sort of godly clerical error.”

“Most unusual.”

“Yeah, we’d gathered. The problem is that when we were merging, Anti accidentally stole JJ’s mouth and we don’t know how to reverse it, so now Anti has a gaping second mouth on his throat and JJ’s mute.”

“I presume Anti and JJ are spirits that possess Jack with you?”

“Yup. Do you know how they can switch back?”

“I don’t think they can. Transference cannot occur after merging is complete. Probably the most prudent course of action is to wait until they are reincarnated; their physical forms should reset.”

“Bummer.”

“Can JJ still communicate?”

“Yeah, when he got his power from merging he found out he can write words in the air with his finger, so he talks like that.”

“Excellent. I recommend he simply wait it out. I will take my leave now, I imagine Mark and Jack have a lot to discuss.”

“Thanks, bro.” He looked at Mark, who was thoroughly baffled at this point. “Sorry to ignore you, spirit problems, you know?” Mark simply nodded. “Jack wants back out now, but see you around!”

Jack’s irises shrank back to normal size and he returned to his usual appearance, blinking rapidly and clearing his throat. He brushed his now-darker hair back and looked sheepishly at Mark. “Hey…”

“When you pulled me aside, that was not what I was expecting.”

“Yeah, sorry… we’ve been trying to find another spirit for almost a year now, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Sorry to drag you into this.”

“It’s okay. It’s kind of a relief to know I’m not the only one who’s dealing with voices only I can hear.”

“Tell me about it. Life has been weird. Speaking of weird, why aren’t you two merged? All my spirits hated not having a body.”

“Well, it’s not just the two of us. They didn’t want to merge and have something go wrong since there were so many of them.”

“No way! You’ve got more than one too? Chase said he’d never seen it happen before, and he’s existed for almost four hundred years. How many do you have?”

“Seventeen.”

“Whoa, seriously? That’s insane! That has got to be tough.”

“You have no idea. The Colonel is their leader, and he can keep them under control for the most part, but the amount of chaos they can create is astounding. What’s being merged like?”

“Strange. The more powerful ones can actually speak to me from inside my head, which can definitely get annoying, but it’s not so bad. Most of them are pretty nice, but they’ve got their flaws. Getting Jackieboyman out of the driver’s seat once he possessed me was rough since he’s so stubborn, Marvin has an ego the size of a small elephant, and Anti’s a jerk who doesn’t take no for an answer and hates sharing. Hence trying to merge at the same time as JJ and causing this whole issue.”

Mark and Jack spent a lot of time together during the rest of the convention, talking and laughing about their shared problem. Jack demonstrated some of his powers, like never missing trick shots when he channeled Chase or the disgustingly awesome ability to detach his left hand and send it scuttling around the room like a five-legged spider when he dipped into Robbie the Zombie’s energy. 

Mark, in turn, passed on the funniest stories of his crew’s antics and introduced Jack to all of them except Eric and Yancy, who were both painfully shy. Jack and Bing hit it off right away, and he loved Captain Magnum’s stories of his previous life as a sailor on a naval ship and the wood carvings Reynolds did in his spare time. He also introduced Mark to another one of his spirits, Dr. Schneeplestein, who developed a close kinship with Dr. Iplier after they discovered they both had medical students as molds in the past. They bid goodbye after the convention with a promise to talk more often and meet up again as soon as they could.

⸻

Mark arrived back at his house after VidCon late at night, exhausted and ready for a good night’s sleep. As he brought in suitcases and dumped them on the kitchen tile, he heard the Colonel telling the others to find something quiet to do so they wouldn’t disturb him. He smiled at the unexpected kindness from the entity. The senior spirit was friendly, but he never went out of his way to help Mark, so it was nice to be acknowledged as important for a change. Maybe meeting Jack had gotten him in his good books.

He stacked the last bag by the table and walked to the fridge to grab a water bottle. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see the Colonel walking into the kitchen, staring flatly at Mark with no emotion behind his gaze. Wrangling the others must take a lot out of him. 

“Thanks for telling them to keep it down,” Mark said cordially. 

“No trouble. I wanted them out of the way.”

“I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t for you.”

Mark shifted uneasily. Something about his attitude was rubbing him the wrong way, and he was still walking closer. “What do you mean?”

“Jack had multiple spirits.”

“Yeah…”

“They merged with no trouble as long as they did it one at a time.” He was still moving nearer.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that there’s no reason to stay separate anymore.”

“Wait- no-” He was cornered. The Colonel was between him and the kitchen door, and he was backed up against the counter. He was only two feet away now. He thought briefly of chucking the water bottle at his face and making a break for it, but it would most likely pass right through him. 

“It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just have to touch you. A finger will do. Any of the others would knock you out like the clumsy oafs they are, but mind transfer is so much easier when you’re conscious. It took me a long time to learn, but it was worth it.”

Mark tried to dart out around the apparition, but the spirit stuck out an arm and knocked him to the floor as he tried to run. The spot he’d struck felt staticky and numb, and he looked down to see silver splashed across his torso. A corresponding place on the Colonel’s chest was now painted in bright color. 

“It’s not personal, I promise. I simply need a body; it’s miserable living a powerless existence. You are the body I need. I’m hopeful we can be on good terms once we’re sharing a mind.”

The spirit pounced on him, firmly holding him against the floor as he struggled to escape. More color seeped out of him with every second that passed, and he started to panic. He desperately kicked towards the entity’s groin, hoping that part of him was solid, and was met with debilitating pain in his own body as well, but it was enough to weaken the Colonel’s grip on him so he could shake him off and crawl away. He pulled himself up using the edge of the counter and was confronted with the sight of the knife block. Grabbing a knife, he turned to see the apparition rising, a grimace on his face and splotches of color dotting his body.

“You got spunk, I’ll say that. Put that down, you’ll only injure yourself.”

“Take back the merge and I’ll put it down.”

“Too late now. I’ve got to finish it. Honestly, I don’t understand your resistance. You should be welcoming me with open arms, all my molds get great powers. My last one could teleport, and the one before that had iron skin.”

“I just want my head to myself.”

“Like I said, no. I’ll show you how to put up mental walls later if you want me to, but we’ve got to merge. Now put the knife down.”

“You’re scared of it.” 

“Yeah, because you could kill yourself if you stab me and I don’t want to lose my mold.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re bluffing. You want to scare me into not attacking you.”

“I promise you I’m not. Let’s get this over with.”

The Colonel lunged towards him, and Mark thrust the knife forward on pure instinct. The blade bit deep into the fleshy stomach of the entity, but a fiery agony erupted in his own midsection. He cried out in pain, releasing the knife handle and clutching his stomach. 

The Colonel fell backwards, touching the knife in his gut with a ginger finger, and looked at Mark with a confused expression on his face.

“That’s not good…” he said dazedly, staring at Mark’s bleeding middle. 

The front of his shirt was being rapidly saturated with crimson. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt. He heard running and looked up to see Dark skidding into the kitchen, covering his mouth in shock as he took in the two of them bleeding on the tile. They were losing blood at an alarming rate. The Colonel was gazing at his wound in a disoriented fog; his eyes didn’t seem to want to focus correctly. Dark ran to Mark’s side, almost reaching out to touch him in comfort but catching himself just in time. 

“I messed up, Dark.”

“It’ll be okay, you’ve got to get to the hospital-”

“But the Colonel’s the one who got stabbed…”

“Oh. Oh dear. A hospital won’t help him. But you’re connected, so you’re bleeding too. Oh, not good.”

“What d-do I do?”

“I think- I mean, only if you’re okay with it, it could work-”

“W-what is it?”

“We could merge. If I was in control I’d have a different form like Chase did, so the wound would go away, then I could finish merging with the Colonel. He should heal once he’s in the mental form.”

“Do it.”

“But you didn’t want-”

“I’m b-bleeding out. Do it.”

So Dark reached out and laid a hand on Mark’s arm.

⸻

Dark had never felt so powerful. He could feel bits of the Colonel floating through Mark’s mind as they merged, and he carefully gathered them up and absorbed them, feeling the strength of the elder spirit seeping into him.

He opened his eyes feeling better than he had in centuries and completely in control. He’d missed having a body. Straightening the tie that always came with his physical form, he looked disdainfully over at the Colonel, who had pulled the blade out of his stomach and was examining it like he’d never seen one before. The old coot had probably gone a bit batty now that Dark had absorbed all the spirit energy the other entity had poured into Mark. He grinned and cracked his knuckles. He knew his mold could see and hear everything, but he was done keeping up the act now that he’d gotten what he wanted. 

“You’ve gotten cocky in your old age, Wilford.”

“Ah, you’re right, that is my name.” He held up the knife with child-like wonder. “You didn’t stay dead!”

“Yes, very interesting. Now, tell me, who am I?”

“Why, Damien of course. I’d recognize you anywhere, we were the best of chums, weren’t we?”

“Those days are long gone, Wilford.”

Dark reached out and grabbed what was left of the Colonel, completing the merge and cementing the broken spirit’s insanity. 

It felt amazing to be back. He closed his eyes and felt around to find his new power, ignoring the panicked banging from the back of his mind, grinning malevolently when he discovered what it was. It had been a long time since he’d been able to shape-shift.

⸻

Jims was the first to be caught. He’d adopted the form of Ed Edgar, who they couldn’t resist teasing, and they immediately swarmed him and merged quickly. He worked his way through the house, gradually combining with every spirit, until all seventeen had fully merged. He sadly couldn’t absorb them like he’d done to the Colonel since they weren’t fragmented, but now they couldn’t interfere unless they could break down his mental defenses, which was highly unlikely. He’d had six hundred years of practice, after all.

He’d impersonated Mark for a full two weeks before being dethroned. Since he could simply change his physical appearance and had access to all of Mark’s memories, he had no trouble fooling his friends, family, and viewers. In the end, however, his arrogance was his downfall. He hadn’t counted on the sheer force of will Jims possessed, and he certainly didn’t expect them to team up with Silver, who had an aggressive moral compass, to gradually break down the mental barriers he’d built up. It was a long and hard fought battle, but Mark was back in his own body. He was determined to never give it up again.

But now it looked like he might have to.


	5. Persuasion and Deception

“What makes you his only chance?" Mark snapped. "It’s just as likely that you’re hiding the real solution from me. I could go to Matt instead; Mad can’t lie to me.”

“I’m three times older than that stuck-up spirit. He won’t be able to tell you anything different. Plus, how exactly did you plan to get Blank and Ethan there, hmm?”

“I’ll bring Matt here.”

“He’ll only tell you to find a soul healer. You already have one. Dr. Iplier is clamoring to help, he’s kicking up quite a racket in here.”

Mark weighed his options. On one hand, he could go to Matt, who was miles more trustworthy than Dark, but might not know any more than Mark himself did. Also, it would take almost an hour to make the round trip to his house and back, and Mark did not want to leave Ethan alone for that long. Overall, not a great option, though he was certainly not discarding it yet. 

His other choice was to let one of his spirits possess him and use his powers to try to heal Ethan and Blank. He didn’t know Dr. Iplier very well, but he remembered him being one of the tamer entities and one of the only ones without homicidal tendencies. He likely wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone while he was in control, but that’s not what he was worried about. He was terrified of being trapped again. It was the worst feeling in the world to him to be a passenger in his own body. He was trapped in his subconscious like a bug in a jar, able to view the world around him but helpless in his own skin. He hated not having control over anything and watching his friends and family never notice the difference. Even if Dr. Iplier didn't hurt anyone, he might not want to give Mark his body back once he was in control, and Mark didn't want to risk that. 

"Is there any way I can talk to him first?"

"No can do. He's not powerful enough to push forward to the front of your mind."

"Can't I tap his power?"

"You can't do that unless he's possessed you at least once, you know that. You don't have another choice, Mark."

"Be quiet."

Mark's mind is in turmoil. In his heart, he knew Dark was telling him the truth. He wanted to go and talk with Mad, but there wasn't time. Ethan was still screaming in agony in the next room, the sound barely muffled by the water-thin wood of the door, and the noise was gradually driving a nail into his soul. He felt like he might crack in half if it didn't stop soon. 

"That could be arranged, if you're interested in letting Eric take your body for a spin," Dark butted in, interrupting his train of thought. 

"Shut up!"

"I can't help it, your thoughts are practically screaming at me. Make a choice. Give up control or abandon your friend to spiritual torment."

Mark had heard enough, both inside and out. He clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, diving into the chaos of his mind to look for Dr. Iplier. 

He finally located the pulsing clump of electric blue energy, which flashed brightly as he thought the doctor's name. Not giving himself time to overthink it any more than he already had, he thrust the entity to the front of his mind, gasping as it writhed and expanded, shackling his free will as he felt his physical body start to twist and change. 

His skin darkened to a deep navy and a pain split through his head as a shining silver circle traced itself on his forehead, glowing with an ethereal light. As Mark watched from his subconscious, Dr. Iplier opened his new sky blue eyes and flexed the two additional fingers that sprouted on each hand. 

The spirit was vaguely aware of the conversation and events that had just taken place, though he wasn't powerful enough to hear the majority of the details. He knew enough to deduce why he was in control, though. He could quite clearly hear the disturbing vocalizations from his patient, and the distress they caused his mold resonated through him. He walked into the next room, clicking his tongue in disappointment when he saw the frozen Blank and the prone form of his patient. He had only experienced merging twice before, and even he knew better than to do it before securing the surrounding area to ensure there were no interruptions. He grabbed the tip of one of his new fingers and tugged, elongating it into a noodle-like rope and squishing the end flat to form a small pad, which he pressed to his patient's bucking chest like one would a stethoscope. He could feel the scattered pieces of the man's soul scrambled in wild disarray, and shook his head. 

"He's dying," he pronounced, and he could hear a flash of panicked emotion jolt through him from his mold. "But I can fix him," he amended, and it abated slightly. 

He sucked his extended finger back in like a tape measure, then set about making preparations for the surgery. He rapidly fashioned his left palm into a suction cup, which he placed firmly on the human's stomach. Trailing his arm behind him like an extension cord, he knelt down in front of Blank and stuck his other hand into the incorporeal chest of the spirit, shivering with pleasure as his energy conduit connected the two beings. He probed gently through the half-merged apparition's form, confirming that the entire soul was present within the two. Everything was present and accounted for, so he began the tedious process of bringing the remaining portion of his patient's soul over to the foolish young entity. It was very time consuming to complete a merge after it had been disrupted this far into the process, but he would do his best. It was his purpose as a soul healer, after all. 

At last, the last piece of energy flowed into Blank, filling the last silver patch on his arm with pale flesh tones, and Dr. Iplier collapsed back onto his retracted hands in exhaustion, looking over at the sofa just in time to see his patient's physical form fading out of existence. He felt a jump of emotion in his head, and dragged a hand down his cheek. 

"For heaven's sake, I was merging them, his physical form would have vanished in any case. He's inside Blank now, perfectly fine. Calm yourself."

If anything, the emotions in his head ran more rampant, blending together until he could no longer distinguish their source or intended message. He supposed that his mold wanted to re-emerge now that the healing was complete, but he needed to ensure everything transferred properly before he retreated back into the mind. He turned to face the newly merged Blank, waiting for him to come to himself, and as he watched, the spirit's hair started to grow at an incredible rate, swirling itself into long tendrils that poked at the doctor in curiosity, though Blank was still unresponsive. Dr. Iplier batted them away impatiently as he studied the way inky tears leaked from Blank’s wide, unseeing eyes, leaving ebony stains behind them as they dripped over the spirit’s second pair of eyes, which sealed themselves shut a second later, leaving a pair of faint half moon scars in their place. He found it fascinating watching another entity discover his true form. 

A few seconds later, Blank snapped out of the trance that had held him frozen and looked around in confusion, eyes landing on the doctor seated in front of him. A strand of hair curled itself around his hand, and he suddenly noticed his new appearance. He felt the slightly raised scars on his cheeks and looked at the other spirit with a gaze filled with wonder. 

"What happened?"

"I completed your interrupted merge."

"Whoa. This feels amazing." He suddenly realized who he was looking at. "Mark? Why's your skin _blue?_ "

"He is my mold. I am Dr. Iplier."

"Your _mold?_ "

"Correct."

"Mark has a spirit?"

"Wrong. He has seventeen."

"Excuse me?"

"Believe me when I say he had an excellent reason for not telling you. Is-" he broke off, clutching his head as a loud, insistent banging started in his skull. He tried to shake it off. "Can you feel Eth-" It got twice as intense, and a sharp pain rippled through him. His mold must be desperate to be let out. Blank was looking at him quizzically, and he managed a weak grimace as the pressure built up in his head. He wasn't powerful enough to take this kind of stress. He could feel his weak barriers crumbling under the mental onslaught. He was thrown back into the subconscious as the other smashed through, and he slipped into a dormant state as a wave of terror from his mold swept him off his feet. 

Blank watched worriedly as Mark's body twisted and changed. He must be taking back control. The navy drained out of him like it was being soaked up by blotting paper, leaving his skin gray and devoid of color. He expected it to flush tan and return to normal, but instead, small curlicues of scarlet and azure flicked like snakes' tongues across the man’s skin, settling into place like odd tribal tattoos. He licked his lips, running his tongue over his new, curved fangs. Blank scooted himself backwards several paces as his pupils narrowed to slits and the irises swirled into a confusing kaleidoscope of red and blue. Something was very wrong here. 

Dark reveled in the feeling of power that surged through him as he took control. He knew that silly doctor wasn’t strong enough to stand up to him. Now that someone else in the real world knew of his existence there was nothing Mark or his frail shields could do to prevent him from taking what he wanted. Closing his eyes, he carefully peeled apart the layers of protection guarding Mark’s relationships from him. It was the one thing he couldn’t access from the subconscious, and the one thing Mark was desperate to hide from him. Dark was out for revenge, and if he knew who Mark cared for, then he knew exactly what would hurt him the most. He picked through the flood of information in giddy anticipation, quickly finding exactly what he needed to know about the man currently sitting in front of him.

He quickly set up his mental blocks, shutting out the frantic anger and panic that churned in the back of his mind. He opened his eyes, turning and shooting Blank a winning smile, watching with barely suppressed glee as the spirit squirmed uncomfortably. This was going to be more fun than he’d had in decades. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Blank. We have much to discuss.”

“Who are you?”

“Why, Darkiplier, sweetheart, but call me Dark. Mark sent me out to give you a crash course on being merged.” This poor naive boy. 

“Okay…” Blank hesitantly settled back down, folding his hands in his lap and trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. He was getting a weird vibe from this spirit, but if Mark sent him out he must be trustworthy, right?

“Excellent. First off, can you feel Ethan in the back of your mind?”

He shut his eyes and concentrated. He could detect a faint presence wriggling sluggishly, like it was just waking up. “I think so. He doesn’t seem very active.”

“That’s because you only merged a minute ago. Now, it’s dangerous for him to be floating freely through your subconscious, so you need to set up some mental barriers to protect him. You should know how to do that without instruction. Build them up as strong as you can. You don’t want him drifting off into your nightmares.”

Blank tried creating a barrier, and found he could do it with no trouble at all. He carefully fenced his mold’s energy in, layering the barriers as Dark had instructed. “Done.”

“Perfect. Keep in mind that once he wakes up fully he’ll still be able to see and hear everything.” He couldn’t believe the level of trust this kid was putting in him right off the bat. He smirked inwardly with the knowledge that Blank had made it nearly impossible for Ethan to take back control. He wouldn’t be interfering. Perfect.

“When do I get my power?”

“It’ll come with time. It’s random every merge, it should manifest itself soon. You can’t force it.” He was lying, of course. Blank’s power would show up as soon as he went looking for it, but he couldn’t risk him doing that and messing up all of his plans. 

“What’s yours?” 

“Shapeshifting. Animals only, though.” He wasn’t about to tell his prey the whole truth. To prove his claim, however, he shifted briefly into a snake, then into a boar, then to a bat, and then back into human form again. Blank stared in amazement. 

“That’s amazing. What else do I need to know?”

Mark watched helplessly as Dark puppeteered his body, filling Blank’s head with lies, the horrible claustrophobia constricting him from all sides. He _knew_ this would happen. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Dark. Now Ethan was in danger again, and he felt responsible. He had to get out before Dark exacted his twisted revenge. He could feel the other entities in his mind starting to fight against Dark’s barriers and he joined their efforts, throwing himself against the mental walls as hard as he could. He had to get out. He didn’t dare think about how long it had taken them last time; he needed out _now_. He tuned back into what Dark was saying, reeling with horror when he heard, “I’m letting Mark back out now.” He knew Dark wouldn’t really let him back out, which meant that he was planning to shapeshift, and who knows what he’ll say or do once he’s wearing Mark’s skin. Blank won’t have any idea that he’s not really speaking to Mark. 

Dark smiled as he felt the tiniest bit of Mark’s distress leak through when he shifted forms. He hurriedly composed his face into an angry expression, pleased as Blank started profusely apologizing. 

“I’m sorry Mark, we needed to merge, we both agreed that was what we wanted to do-”

“Shut up.” Blank flinched as Dark stood up, his expression full of thunderclouds. This was going to be amazing. He’d been waiting for far too long. “How dare you? I was trying to protect you!” he yelled as Mark. “You betrayed my trust! I wanted to save you from what I’ve been going through, and you disregarded all my advice and went behind my back!”

Dark didn’t only want to cause physical pain. That wasn’t satisfying enough, though the screams were quite rewarding. His goal was to leave emotional scars as well. He knew Ethan was awake at this point and was aware of what was happening, and that Mark would be listening and watching his every action. He wanted the man to feel _despair_. 

“Mark, please, I was only trying to help him-”

“Yeah right, like you could ever care about him. You’ve known him for a few weeks, we’ve been friends for years. You don’t give a crap about him. You’ve done nothing but make his life miserable.” Dark switched his aim now. “Ethan, I know you can hear me in there. You just made the worst mistake of your life. You let what might as well be a demon into your mind, and you lost a friend as well.” Blank looked at him like a kicked puppy, and he almost let his facade slip into a smile as waves of anguish rolled in from Mark. He pushed on, making it look like he was getting more and more worked up as he continued to rant about how terrible Ethan was and the stupidity of his actions. He wished he could feel Ethan’s emotions as well, but he gloried in Mark’s pain like he needed it to live. He broadened his assault, bringing things into his tirade that he knew Ethan was insecure about and making it look like Mark had hated them for years. 

Tears were forming in Blank’s eyes as he quailed under the ferocity of the berating. Innumerable emotions were raging through his mind, and he couldn’t tell what was from him and what was from his mold. He could feel him panicking in the back of his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to retreat back into the depths of the subconscious and let his mold take the reins. He tried to bring the agitated energy to the front of his mind, but it wouldn’t budge, his barriers keeping it locked into place. He tried to remove them the same way he’d put them up, but they weren’t dissolving as fast as he’d expected them to. He was jolted out of the task by a rough grip on his arm, and his gaze came back into focus to see Mark uncomfortably close, fire burning in his furious gaze. 

Mark slapped him across the face, and he let out a scared yelp as his cheek stung, the blow agitating the newly healed skin there. His hair lashed out at the other man like a cluster of whips, but he grabbed them as they struck, gathering them all up in his hands and yanking. Blank gasped in pain as he was hauled up by his hair. He was terrified. The man standing in front of him right now looked like he had murder in his eyes. He tried again to take down the barriers and release his mold, but a punch to the gut knocked the wind out of him and broke his concentration. Why was Mark so horribly upset? This wasn’t right. 

Dark was drunk off of his host’s heartbreak. It was dazzling, after waiting so long for his revenge. He kept up the verbal onslaught, punctuating his insults with physical abuse if he saw Blank start to disappear into his thoughts again. He wanted to keep going, making it worse and worse until Mark broke with the pain and he could have everything he wanted, but the high was waning. He wanted a new target. 

Abruptly cutting off the rant, he tossed Blank aside and strode purposefully towards the kitchen. He was going to end this little game and move onto the next round. He felt Mark’s fresh surge of fear as he sensed his intentions, and he allowed a slight grin to creep onto his face. 

Blank watched him walk away, body aching in several places, baffled and hurt. There was a lot of frenzied banging coming from the back of his mind and the betrayal and pain were overwhelming him to the point where it was hard to think, but Mark’s words didn’t affect him the same way they were affecting his mold and he was trying his best to keep thinking clearly. He knew deep down in his core that there was something obvious that he was missing. 

There was no reason for Mark to lose control like this. It went against everything he’d ever seen him do. He shut his eyes and blocked out the pain. He wanted Mark to tell him what was going on. He wanted the real reason behind his anger. This one thought ran in a cycle over and over until it was all he could think. He wanted to make him tell the truth. 

“Mark.” 

The man paused, one hand resting on the doorframe. Blank almost thought he saw a smile, but then the scowl was back in full force. “Tell me…” He trailed off. His voice felt different. There was weight behind the words, and he felt like he needed to be careful with them. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m going to get a knife.” Dark almost lost his composure in astonishment. He hadn’t meant to say that. 

“Why.” It was a command, not a question.

“To kill you.” What was he doing?

Something clicked in Blank’s head. “Tell me whether or not you’re Mark.”

Dark knit his brows together in anger as he tried to control his tongue. “I’m not.” He was saying things against his will. He angrily started walking into the kitchen. Time to remove the wrench in his plans. He was going to punish Mark for trying to contain him, and this obnoxious youngster was not going to stop him. 

Blank’s thoughts were whirring faster than he could keep track of them. There was something different about his voice. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt so right somehow that he wasn’t scared. Was this his power? He needed to figure out what was going on.

“Stop,” he said, and to both of their surprise, the other man did. Dark tugged against the order, his feet rooted to the floor, but he couldn’t move. He growled in annoyance. He’d underestimated this upstart. 

Blank was trying to come up with a plan. One thing was certain, whoever was in front of him wasn’t Mark, so it must be a spirit that could impersonate him. Mark was against the merge because he thought spirits were a threat; this must be what he was worried about. He had to find a way to get the spirit to give up control. If his power was giving orders… 

Dark could see that the spirit was piecing together the puzzle. He furiously lurched against the power binding him, and with a yank he stumbled out of the control, face flushed and enraged. He lunged for the knife drawer.

“Leave it closed.” 

He yelled in frustration and rounded on the other man, fingers twitching but unable to reach for the drawer. He charged him, bent on strangling him with his bare hands.

“Hold still.” Dark crashed to the floor like he’d become a mannequin. Blank thought fast, knowing he didn’t have long before he shook off the command again. 

“You don’t want to hurt me or Mark.”

Dark’s mood changed faster than flicking a light switch. The anger drained out of him, and he visibly relaxed. There was a little nagging voice saying that something had changed that wasn’t supposed to, but he didn’t really care. His hate seemed so petty now. He broke the order to freeze and stood up, his anger melting away like snow in noon sunshine as he shapeshifted back into his real form. He became newly aware of the banging from the back of his mind, and immediately destroyed the mental blocks, anxious that his mold was so scared and wanting him to calm down. He didn’t protest when he immediately took back control, knowing that was what it would take to make him stop hurting. 

Mark rushed back into his body, crying with relief as his limbs started responding again. He jumped to his feet and crushed the trembling Blank in an enormous hug, sending the both of them stumbling back into the other room. 

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t do anything-”

“Is it really you now, Mark?”

“Yes. It’s me.” He let go, smiling sheepishly as Blank recovered his balance. “Thank you. I’m… I’m sorry I misjudged you.”

“That’s okay. I can see why you wouldn’t trust me; are you okay?”

Mark took mental inventory. “No,” he finally decided. His spirits weren’t causing problems anymore, not even Dark, but he was too shaken by what had just happened to be classified as okay. “No, I’m not. I think I need to talk to Ethan.”

“Oh!” Blank’s eyes widened. “I’ll get him. I need to let down the barriers, and he can get out, right?”

“Yeah.” 

The spirit closed his eyes and concentrated, busting down his own walls and releasing his mold, who immediately kicked him back into the subconscious. Blank didn’t blame him; he’d been through a lot. 

Mark nervously watched as Ethan transitioned back into himself, wiping away the last of his tears. Dark had said horrible things to him, and he needed to make sure his friend was alright and apologize. 

Ethan opened his eyes and immediately wrapped him in an almost suffocating embrace. “Please don’t say sorry,” he said softly. “It wasn’t you. I’ll be okay.”

“But the things he said- I want you to know that none of it was true. You’re amazing and a great friend, and I could never hate you.”

“Thanks, Mark.” 

He could feel Blank trying to offer comfort from the back of his mind, and he smiled gratefully. His new life would take some getting used to, but at least they had each other to get through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this. Comments are greatly appreciated, even if it's been a while since I posted this.
> 
> Edit: I just uploaded a one shot set in the same universe as this fic, if anyone wants more to read! Just go to the next work in this series.


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